Monday, September 01, 2008

from muskox to mai tais

Aloha, all 3 loyal readers.

This will be a brief post to apologize for the lack of recent postings and provide a quick update to my culinary adventures.

Our visit to the Yukon was highlighted by the successful hunting trip executed by Anna and Stirling into the wilds of the Nisutlin River, wherein they shot and expertly dismembered a most delicious and tender young bull moose. So far it has been nothing short of exceptional; recipes for moose-liver pate will most likely follow at some point, which really are more for taunting than following since it's unlikely most people have access to any moose liver, never mind super-fresh liver from a two-year-old willow-and-grass-fed bull. Oh, and I had a muskox burger that tasted exactly how I expected muskox to taste, but I hereby fail in my attempts at food journalism because I couldn't describe it to save my life. It was tough though, and Rowan wouldn't eat it. They should have added some pork fat and breadcrumbs or something. Also, mossberries are a good thing.

Ok, so then we had a brief stop in Victoria where I frantically picked blackberries, made a pie, then tossed the rest in the freezer due to lack of time. Then we jetted off again, to Hawaii. Waikiki to be exact. And so far, the food is kind of crappy, except for one Korean place and the sushi bar next to it which is cozy and delightful. And cheap - I think we had the cheapest sushi dinner we've ever had there, but that was probably because they were out of ikura and Rowan usually eats a horrifying amount of it.

But. Waikiki makes up for the crappy food (or disguises it) by having rivers of booze pouring out of all the hotel bars. I just popped down to the Marriott to have my obligatory mai tai and ordered it after overcoming my initial shock at the $10 price tag. That's easily twice as much as a "mai tai" in Victoria would cost. However, it turned out to be a veritable bargain, because there is easily four times as much booze in the ones here. Honestly, I felt bloody heroic for finishing it, even though I made the bartender add some juice. Because there wasn't any. In an eight-ounce drink. I think. Hard to say now, but I know my own alcohol tolerance pretty well, I am NOT at a thin, easily-boozed state of my life right now, but I am seriously borderline for dinner with the in-laws and it was only ONE drink. So, fun. Should have left more time for that.

So that's the update, I'll try to post more later, but now I'm off to cook my grass-fed beef steak on a probably inadquate electric bbq, and attempt to brainwash my dear father-in-law into understanding why MY steak is a better deal than his marked-down "kobe" steak he got at walmart or wherever it is they shop here. (There is a very good farmer's market... more on that later.)